by Emma Newman
“You are a resourceful young woman. Now, I have been considering a match for you, but I wasn’t sure whether you were mature and clever enough for the one I had in mind.”
Her face brightened at the mention of a match. How could she and Cathy have come from the same mother? “Oh, but I am, William! I was clever enough to come to you with this information, was I not?”
Will nodded, wishing her sister was so easy to manipulate. “Yes, I can see that you’re just the sort of brilliant, beautiful young woman a bachelor of this calibre would want to take as a wife.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Oh, I am. Perhaps you could tell me a little about him?”
“He’s a very well-travelled gentleman, seasoned, one might say, by just the right amount. He’s just returned to Londinium after being abroad for a few years and is settling into a very fine house as I speak.” Will couldn’t help but tease her, it was so easy. He knew all she cared about was the wealth and the status. “He plays a fine game of billiards, so I’m told, and is very fond of music.”
“Oh! I can play the piano, the harp, and the harpsichord. The Censor of Aquae Sulis put on a concert just so that I could sing. She said I have the voice of an angel.”
“Even better.” Will paused, drawing it out, amused by how she was steadily leaning forwards, straining to hear the family name. “He’s extraordinarily wealthy,” Will said, and she beamed with delight. “But of course, he is a Viola, so that’s to be expected.”
“A Viola!” she clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, he sounds perfect. Do you think he will like me?”
Will smiled, knowing that as they spoke, Bertrand was on his way to tell his cousin about the match. Harold had only been back in the city for a couple of days and was already proving to be useful. Bertrand was satisfied that Will had put his family first in matching a desirable young woman with close family ties to the Duke and Duchess to his cousin. Of course, Bertrand had the added incentive of knowing that if he failed to persuade Harold to agree, the proposed marriage between his daughter and Nathaniel Iris would be withdrawn. Will was simply happy to get Elizabeth out of his hair. “I’m sure he will find you irresistible, Elizabeth. You are the jewel of Aquae Sulis, after all.”
“Oh, I must tell Mother!”
“It’s already in hand,” he said. “I’ve asked her to come to Londinium this afternoon to chaperone you on a visit.”
“This afternoon!”
“Yes. You have a few hours yet; Harold isn’t free until four o’clock. Should she find the match agreeable, and with your father’s blessing, the contract will be signed this evening. The Violas are not fond of long engagements, so the speedy wedding your mother asked for can be accommodated.”
Elizabeth jumped to her feet. “Oh, what shall I wear? I could positively burst.” She darted over like a hummingbird to kiss him on the cheek before running to the door. “Thank you so much, darling William. I knew you wouldn’t let me down!”
The room seemed so still after Elizabeth left. Will savoured it for a moment and then pulled the bell cord.
“Ah, Morgan, has my wife surfaced yet?”
“She just left, your Grace. I can only assume she forgot about a commitment, as she left in a great hurry. I didn’t have any time to remind her about the visit this afternoon.” At Will’s blank expression, he added, “Princess Rani of the Princely State of Rajkot has requested an audience at short notice.”
“I’m sure Cathy can handle that. She won’t forget a royal visit. I’m going to be out for the rest of the day. Have my carriage readied; I’ll be leaving in half an hour.”
Morgan bowed and left. There was still the matter of Digitalis and his wife to settle, and Will intended to keep his promise to Cathy. However, now that he could see an alternative solution to the problem presenting itself, he was hoping that by the time they saw each other again, it would all be resolved without any need for such ridiculous ideas as changing the law.
• • •
The Peonia boy was less pale than the last time Max saw him, but he was still just as nervous and sweaty. Max had arranged to meet him at the coffee-house near the Abbey as it was an easy location for the boy to get to without having to be gone from the Nether for too long.
He was sitting in the corner of a room on the first floor, back to the wall. When Max hobbled in, he stood to attention, in the most conspicuous way imaginable.
“Sit,” Max said, and the Peonia did so.
“Gosh,” he whispered. “All this derring-do isn’t anything like how they describe it in the adventure books, is it? I couldn’t manage my breakfast this morning.”
“Make your report and then you can leave,” Max said as the Peonia pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed his forehead.
“Well, I got in,” he said, with a grin. “I couldn’t believe it. ‘Oli,’ they said, ‘not only did you steal a baby and return it without the mundane noticing, you managed to gain the favour of the Master of Ceremonies whilst you did it.’ I didn’t know what they meant, but they spotted me talking with Mr Lavandula the day afterwards and he never really spoke to me before and, well, they assumed I’d impressed him. I didn’t let on that they’d got the wrong end of the stick, of course. You were right about them not watching the house, thank goodness. They gave the boot boy ten of the Queen’s pounds to report me taking the baby round the house three times. All worked out jolly well, considering the circumstances.”
“Who are the members?”
“Ah, well, I haven’t met them yet. But I can tell you that the usual haunt is Lunn’s, in the upstairs room, and I’m supposed to meet everyone there tomorrow night. I was supposed to be lunching with them there today, but there’s something going on in Londinium. They wouldn’t tell me what it is, but it sounds jolly exciting to go on a jaunt like that. Something about seeing the Duchess and making sure she has what’s coming to her. Delivering a gift, I suppose. So they’re not all bad, Mr Arbiter.”
“You can go now,” Max said, and watched the Peonia scurry out like a child who’d escaped a beating. He pulled his mobile from his pocket and called Catherine. It went to answerphone. “Don’t leave your house,” he said. “There’s a group associated with illegal activity in Aquae Sulis who are travelling to Londinium and may intend you harm. Oh. This is Max. Call me when you—” It beeped loudly, but he was fairly certain it had recorded.
• • •
Cathy stifled a gasp when she saw Charlotte. She’d lost even more weight, her face was quite gaunt, and she was dreadfully pale. Once the butler left the room Cathy embraced her, disturbed by how thin she felt, and kissed her cheek.
“What is it?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”
Charlotte held up a finger, telling her to wait until the tea had been brought in. Once they were alone again, she went to her embroidery box and pulled a seashell from beneath the silk skeins. She whispered a Charm into it and set it down next to the teapot.
“We can’t be overheard now,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”
“Have you been eating? You look so thin!”
“I can’t. It’s so hard, pretending to still be cursed. I don’t know how much longer I can bear it. Smiling when he says such awful things, looking pleased when he…” Her face crumpled. “When he touches me. I could not hate a man more.”
Cathy moved to sit next to her, putting an arm around her. “Oh, Charlotte. This isn’t going to work. We need to think of a better solution.”
“I didn’t ask you to come to talk about me,” Charlotte said, wiping away stray tears. “It’s Emmeline. She’s being married off.”
“Do you know who the—”
“Nathaniel Iris.”
“Oh no! Shit!”
Charlotte nodded. “I am beside myself. I cannot possibly allow that to happen, but if I express my unhappiness he’ll know the curse has been broken and he’ll cast it again and I can’t bear that. I know I shouldn’t be so selfish, but even if I do speak out against the match, he wo
n’t take any notice. I have no voice here! Whether I choose to speak or not.”
She broke down and Cathy held her tight as the worst of it passed. “We have a little time before he comes back. I saw him as I was leaving. He’s with Will.”
Charlotte nodded. “Afterwards he’s going to see Harold, to press him into marrying your sister. Oh, that sounds terrible. I mean—”
“Elizabeth? Hang on, who’s Harold?”
“Bertrand’s cousin. He’s been away for over fifty years, I’ve no idea where. He’s another of Lady Violet’s favourites. He’s quite harmless—a bit of an idiot if you ask me, but there isn’t a cruel bone in his body. Bertrand got all of those. I’m sure your sister will be safe.”
Cathy felt as if she’d missed half of the conversation. “I’ve never heard of him, or this match. When did it happen?”
“Yesterday. Bertrand spoke with the Duke at the Tower.” Charlotte looked at Cathy over her handkerchief. “Nothing was mentioned to you?”
Cathy shook her head. “He didn’t say a bloody word.”
“They’ve made a deal. If Harry marries your sister, Nathaniel will marry Emmeline. Of course, Bertrand is over the moon! His daughter in a high-status position, something the Violas have been sorely lacking over the past hundred years thanks to Freddy, may he rest in peace. And both marriages tie us to the Duke’s close and extended family.”
Cathy shook her head. Will had been busy. And he hadn’t shared any of it with her. “I don’t believe this.”
“So you see, there’s nothing I can do,” Charlotte said. “But the thought of that brute with my darling girl…” She broke down again. “After what he did to Margritte I can’t bear the thought of it.”
“Have you heard from her?” Cathy asked. “She hasn’t replied to the last three letters I sent her. I’m worried she’s angry with me.”
Charlotte dabbed at her nose and shook her head. “I haven’t. But surely William would know if something had happened to her. She may just be busy, trying to find allies. Have you asked Natasha?”
“No, I haven’t seen her. She’s been setting up new distributors for the pamphlets.”
“Cathy, I don’t know what to do. Benedict has just gone on his Grand Tour, so he has no idea what’s going on. Emmeline doesn’t know yet and I don’t have the heart to tell her. I hoped that you might…” her voice trailed off.
“Will won’t listen to me.”
“But I thought he—”
Cathy shook her head. “He isn’t one of us, Charlotte. I hoped he was, but he isn’t.” Her throat clogged and she felt a sudden overwhelming sadness at hearing herself say that. But it was the truth. “Do you have any allies?”
Charlotte pointed at her, with the saddest smile. “I was cursed for decades, Cathy. Everyone thinks I’m some vacuous doll.”
Cathy looked down at her gloves, feeling the pressure. What could she do? She took a deep breath. “Okay. There are two problems here. The first is that we can’t let Emmeline be married off to that misogynistic fuck.” She smiled at the way Charlotte gasped. “The second is that you staying here, pretending to be cursed, is killing you.”
“The first is more urgent,” Charlotte said, pouring the tea. “Bertrand was talking about contracts being signed within days, and the Violas don’t like long engagements. Probably because the wife is usually unwilling,” she added bitterly.
“We can’t approach any of the Violas, or your patron, I assume?”
Charlotte shook her head. “No. Not looking like this. She’ll know something is wrong, and it could create more problems than solve them. I’m one of her favourites.”
Cathy nodded. “That’s what usually happens when those lot get involved. Look, we could just get you and Emmeline out.”
“Out?”
“Into Mundanus.”
There was a flash of excitement in Charlotte’s eyes, and then she looked away, shaking her head. “No. I couldn’t do that. Everything is so different there now. How would we survive? And the Violas would come after us.”
“I have a very powerful friend who would protect you. They wouldn’t find you.”
“No. I couldn’t possibly. I used to be brave, a long time ago. Not now. There has to be another solution!”
Cathy understood her reluctance. Being so dependent on a stranger wasn’t exactly a great solution either. “Okay. How much do you care about being successful in Society?”
“Not a jot,” Charlotte said. “I would be happy to retire to the country and so would Emmeline. She’s too intellectual for this world and I find it hollow.”
“Maybe we could kill two birds with one stone,” Cathy said. “What if I told an Arbiter that Bertrand stole you from Mundanus? He’d be booted out of Society and Nathaniel would break the contract if the father of his bride were dishonoured.”
“I’ve heard that in those circumstances,” Charlotte said, “the entire family is expelled. Or taken by the Arbiters and put to work. I couldn’t bear it. If only he’d committed some other crime, something unrelated to me, then Lady Violet would probably pension me off. I’ve borne children and she’s too fond of me to just abandon me. But Bertrand’s spotless and he has the Duke’s favour, too.”
Cathy sighed. “You’re right. We can’t risk you being kicked out, you can’t say anything to your family elders, and you have no leverage. So the only option is to approach this from the Iris side.”
“But Dame Iris hates you.”
“She’s dead,” Cathy said, and Charlotte blanched. “Lord Iris killed her because she…didn’t meet his expectations.”
Charlotte shuddered. “This is hell. A very beautiful hell.”
“Sure you want to stay? Mundanus can be quite wonderful.”
“Better the hell I know,” Charlotte replied.
Cathy stood, draining her cup in a couple of loud gulps, fearing that if she dwelt upon Dame Iris and this gilded hell too much, she’d break down. “I’ll think of something. I promise. Hang in there. And eat something. You’re going to need your strength, okay?”
They embraced. “Sisterhood,” Charlotte whispered in her ear. “Sisterhood is our strength.”
Cathy said goodbye and left the house. She climbed into the carriage, Carter getting in behind her, and waved to the ghost-like woman watching from the window. As soon as they were away, Cathy slumped, exhausted. The brave band was disintegrating; Margritte unresponsive, Charlotte fading away, and Natasha elsewhere, admittedly working for the cause, but still absent. Where was that feeling of strength and invincibility she had felt that night when the four of them were united? Where was the sense of hope, of potential for change?
Was she doing enough? Will would say she was doing far too much, but they were still getting nowhere. She thought back to her lessons as a girl, how the suffragists had argued peacefully and calmly for the vote for fifty years or so to no avail. She could understand why they had shifted their tactics. Faced with the wall of silence and oppression, what else was there to do but escalate?
Deeds not words. Was it time for her to take more radical action? But what could she do in her world, where women could be Dolled, cursed, and Charmed into obedience?
“Some days,” she said to Carter, “do you just want to burn everything down to the ground and start again?”
He blinked at her. “I can’t say I’ve ever felt that, your Grace.”
“You’re lucky,” she sighed. “But what if—”
There was a flash of light outside the carriage, casting the darkest shadows she’d ever seen in the Nether, and the horses whinnied in alarm. The carriage lurched to a stop so fast that Cathy was thrown into the opposite wall, only stopped from banging her head by Carter’s quick reflexes, catching her with one of his huge arms.
She sat back and was about to call out to the driver to ask what had happened when she noticed the most awful silence.
Carter sprang into action, locking the carriage doors.
“What’s happening?”<
br />
“Please stay calm and still, your Grace,” he said, starting to lift the seat cushion he’d been sitting on. “I believe we’re about to be attacked.”
18
Bennet looked very different from how Will remembered him. His suit had been cleaned and mended, as had he, but Will was certain he used to be taller. Perhaps it was something to do with the slump of his shoulders or the way that he looked like he was trying to take up as little space as possible.
“Mr Bennet,” Will said, nodding to the guard to leave him in his study. “I trust your spell in the Tower has given you time to reflect upon your actions.”
“Yes, your Grace. I could not be more filled with regret.”
“Blackmailing the Duchess of Londinium is such a severe crime, you’re lucky to be alive.”
“Yes, your Grace, lucky and so very grateful that you’re a merciful Duke.”
The snivelling suited the wretch’s face, with its weak chin. He disgusted Will, but at least he hadn’t given into his desire to have him executed for putting Cathy through such a distressing experience. Was a couple of weeks in a stone cell after an occasionally painful interrogation enough of a punishment? He wasn’t sure, but he had to move quickly and Bennet was more useful to him alive.
“I will pardon your crime, in light of the fact that you’ve been most cooperative, on one condition.”
“Anything, your Grace!”
“I intend to take control of the Agency. I have reached an accord with the Sorcerer, as he has lost interest in it. I already supply all of the potions and Charmed artefacts it uses to run its operation, so it is in our mutual interest that I take over responsibility for it.”
Bennet’s mouth fell open. “He lost interest?”
Will smiled and gave a slight shrug. “Sorcerers. They have other concerns, wouldn’t you agree? And after I worked so closely with him to remove the criminal Rosa family from our midst, he considered me trustworthy enough to ensure I would see everything done properly with regards to the Agency.”
“And…and how may I help, your Grace?”